


everything I do, I do it for you

by SapphoIsBurning



Series: take me as I am, take my life [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, Nesting, Scenting, Soul Bond, Unplanned Pregnancy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:39:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: An unplanned pregnancy brings Sami and Dean closer than they ever dared to hope.





	1. Quelle surprise

**Author's Note:**

> I actually started working on this immediately after posting "don't tell me it's not worth tryin for" but I've been picking at it a scene at a time ever since. The ending is written! I'm still working on the middle. But I've got enough to start posting, so why not?

"Shit, Dean, I'm pregnant. I'm fucking pregnant." Sami's face was a mask of fear and uncertainty. He hung his head and scratched the back of his neck, trying to take up less space.

Dean’s mouth hung open, gaping. He just stared, eyes glassy, for a few seconds before wiping them with his hand and swallowing hard. "Are you sure?"

"I took two home tests and then went to the doctor and I was afraid to tell you before I was really sure because I didn't want to freak you out..."

Dean stepped closer and put a hand on Sami's shoulder. "Kid, you don't need to worry about me, you just tell me whatever you got to tell me." He swallowed again, like gulping air and saliva would give him the words to describe the situation. "I didn't know it could happen like that. Fuck, I would have...I don't know." He didn't know what he could have done other than knot Sami like he begged for, pleaded for. It's not like an alpha's come could be held back by something like a condom. He'd tried; it wasn't pretty.

"I thought being on the pill for so long before they failed would have done SOMETHING but apparently I'm just super fucking fertile." Sami looked up and his eyes were tearing up but he was also laughing.

Dean pulled him into an embrace. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was the Sperminator."

Sami sniffled and laugh-sobbed. "Come with me if you want to live," he said into Dean's shoulder, leaning his cheek against the warmth of his leather jacket.

Dean wrapped his arms tightly around Sami and rubbed his back, feeling how they fit together, scenting him without even thinking about it. God. He was carrying his pup and he still wasn't *his* omega, not until Sami said so. But he wanted it so bad he could taste it.

"The one time there's a bad batch of pills," Sami said. "The one fucking time. Guess it just takes once."

Dean felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach. "You don't have to carry this through," Dean said. "I can't ask you to."

Sami was quiet. They just stood together embracing and trying to figure out what to do next.

***

After Sami had went to Hunter to talk about his condition, they made plans to write him out with a kayfabe injury and put him on hush-hush paternity leave, and that was basically that. Although it had been one of the company’s not so secret nightmares, they did have a contingency plan. But what was not in the plan was the righteous chewing out Dean got as soon as Hunter could get him alone.

"How could you be so irresponsible?" Triple H asked, threateningly, backing Dean up against the wall of the venue.

Dean's face burned with shame. He didn't respond, just looked at his shoes.

"He's your friend. Who knows if he'll wrestle again after this."

"I said he didn't have to keep it, but he fucking laughed at me!" Dean snapped. "Did you know he thought he couldn't have a baby? No, you don't fucking know, you just want to be all fucking sanctimonious papa-don't-preach all over us. Sami wants to have the baby and I'm going to follow him to the ends of the earth to see my pup born and there's fuck-all you can do to stop me. Strip my title. Bury me. I'll wrestle chumps on Main Event, fucking fire me, do what you want, I love him and he's having my baby," Dean sobbed.

Hunter's threatening posture deflated. He took a breath and started to say something, but stopped. He held his head in his hand. "Dammit, Dean. I just wanted something different for you kids."

"Tell me about it. But this is what we got, and we're going with it." He stared Hunter down.

"Okay. Let me know when you're going to want time off to stay home with him.”

"With them," Dean corrected.

"Right," Hunter said. "I'll let creative know. We can't put you through a cinder block again. Maybe we could run you over with a truck...maybe a casket match. I wish I could have had more time when my oldest was born. Things have changed since then." Hunter's voice wavered with emotion.

Dean nodded. "God, we've got to figure out where we're all going to live. Sami wants to go back to Montreal but I don't speak a damn word of French and I own my place in Vegas, and I just. Ugh. I just want to nest and it's fucking terrible."

Hunter nodded sympathetically, a far cry from his criticism that sparked this conversation. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You'll work it out."

***

They ended up in Vegas on a trial run. Sami was too frazzled to pack very effectively so he showed up with a suitcase full of t-shirts and underwear and not much else; a couple of boxes came by mail, a hand-sewn quilt, a teddy bear.

"I can't move my vinyl collection without a truck or something," he said. “Neville and some of the other Florida guys helped put it in storage. The apartment’s month to month so...I’m out.”

“Fuck Florida,” Dean said. “You’ll like the desert.” His hand went to the small of Sami’s back. It was hard to sort out the rightness of being with the omega carrying his pup and the wrong suddenness of their cohabitation. Dean didn’t want to admit how much he wanted Sami here where he could nest, where their scents could mingle.

***

"You hang up your tee shirts?" Dean asked.

Sami jumped and dropped what he had been hanging up in the closet.

"Oh shit, sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on you, I thought--" Dean came into the bedroom, no longer a "guest" bedroom any more than the critter the size of a cheerio growing inside Sami's belly was a "guest".

"It's fine, I'm just really jumpy lately." Sami ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the bed.

Dean shifted his weight and absentmindedly drummed at his collarbone. "Do you need any help unpacking? Um, need any more hangers?" He looked around. Sami's few boxes were untaped, a couple of pieces of framed art leaning against the baseboard, and he was taking the clothes out of his suitcase.

"Some company would be nice," Sami said. He gestured to the bed, and Dean sat down. Their shoulders brushed.

"So, you don't fold your shirts and like keep them in a drawer?" Dean asked as Sami went back to unpacking.

Sami shrugged. "I've always done it this way."

"Um, the laundry room is on the first floor in the back of the house," Dean said. "There's a chute in the hall up here that drops stuff right down into a basket."

"No basements out here?"

"Nah, the bedrock is really hard to dig into. I'd have to make, like, Undertaker money to afford a basement." They looked at each other and laughed.

Sami got everything out of his giant suitcase and then kicked at it, knocking it over and closed. "Not sure how much longer I'm going to wear this shit anyway. Gotta go paternity shopping." He grimaced.

"I mean, you could lay around in my bathrobe for the last couple of months. Eating bonbons. Watching Netflix. Don't need a new wardrobe for that."

"I'm not your kept man, Dean, I don't...ugh. I don't even know what I am."

Dean stood up and drew Sami into his arms. "You're my super preggo boyfriend," he said. "If you want to be."

Sami leaned his head against Dean's shoulder. "Is that what we are? We've had sex one goddamn time."

"Well. We could make it two."

"Like, now?" Sami asked, sounding a little shocked.

"Well not *now*, I've got a frozen lasagna in the oven, but, whenever you wanted. Or not. Sami, I like you a lot, and I'll do anything I can to keep you around. If that's keeping my distance, I'll do it, but I'd just as soon stay pretty close." He nuzzled Sami's neck, and Sami opened up his stance to let Dean scent him. "Everything in my nature is telling me to protect you and, like, build a nest. But I kind of don't know what that means."

"A nest is nice," Sami said. "So is lasagna."

"Oh good," Dean said. "I...should have asked."

"As long as it's not pork lasagna? No italian sausage," Sami said.

"No, there's just some ground beef and cheese and sauce and noodles? I didn’t make it. I bought it. But I turned the oven on all by myself," Dean said.

"That sounds rad." Sami patted Dean on the back.

"We'll figure this out," Dean said, as much to himself as to Sami. "We're going to be good at this."

  
***

"We have to find you a doctor here," Dean said. "An obstetrician."

"Ugh," Sami grunted, and rolled over so he was face down on the pillow.

"OK, I don't mean like *now*," Dean said. "But soon. I, uh, called some places and I have a little list. Of places. That take our insurance and are taking new patients. And I didn't know if you wanted a male omega obstetrician or whether you'd be comfortable with someone of a different gender and." He put his yellow legal pad down on the bedside table and sat down on the bed next to Sami.

Sami rolled over so he was on his back facing up. "You didn't have to do this."

"I want to do this. I did this." Dean gestured toward Sami's still flat stomach.

"You've got to go back to work tomorrow," Sami said. "You're still on tour."

Dean sighed. He lay down on the bed next to Sami and stretched out. He nudged Sami's leg with his bare toes. "I know. I just want to do what I can, when I can."

Sami rolled off the bed suddenly, jumping up.

"What?" Dean said. "What did I--"

He heard the sound of Sami running to the bathroom, slamming open the toilet seat, and hurling up what was left in his stomach of what he ate the day before.

"Oh," Dean said.

Sami kept barfing.

Dean got up and went downstairs. He put a kettle of water on the stove, and got out a mint tea bag, putting it in a chunky blue ceramic mug. He had bought the kettle and the teabags in anticipation of Sami's arrival.

A little later, Sami came downstairs, bleary and wearing Dean's bathrobe.

"I got this tea that's supposed to be good for nausea," Dean said. "It smells okay. It's, like spearmint."

Sami smiled weakly. "Thanks."

He looked so wrung out that Dean held back from hugging him in fear of breaking him. But then he felt bad for holding back. He bobbed in and out before Sami just stepped up and put his head on Dean's shoulder.

"They say this only lasts the first trimester, so you're halfway through it," Dean said. "I think."

"Who's *they*?" Sami asked.

"I got some books," Dean said.

"How many books?"

"Couple books. They're in the living room. I got 'What To Expect When You're Expecting, for Alphas,' and 'Pregnancy for Dummies' and one called 'what's growing in there?' That's kind of a joke but also kind of good. It gives you week by week explanations of how big the baby is compared to different pieces of sports equipment. I think you're still at like fishing lure stage."

Sami was giving him a skeptical look.

"I'm going to stop talking."

"Dean, I know you want to be supportive but--" but then the kettle whistled and Dean jumped up to go get it, turning the stove off and pouring the boiling water into the mug with the teabag.

"I don't know what I'm doing either," Sami finished. "I could tell you how to support me if I knew how to support me. I have no fucking clue."

Dean nodded, pushing the mug over toward Sami. "Let it steep for, like, five minutes?"

"I'm never going to remember that. Can you set a timer."

Dean nodded and tapped at the screen of his phone.

"I guess nobody knows what they're doing,” Dean said. “Especially not the first time. Or the only time. What I'm saying is that, I want to learn. And I want to learn with you." Dean sat down at the table and Sami followed. "We can make this work."

"If we can make tea, we can make a baby, is that what you're telling me?"

"Think so."

"Hmm." Sami seemed skeptical, but five minutes later, he was drinking the tea, and it was a good start.

***  
It was hard for Dean to leave Sami when he had to hit the road that Friday.

"I don't know where anything is," Sami said. "I don't know how your remote works."

"*I* don't know how my remotes work," Dean said. "I'm not even sure why there are four of them. It's a puzzle, like a game."

"There's no one here, Dean, it's just me and your scent."

The sadness of that hit Dean in the chest like a lariat. "Maybe we should have gone with Florida. There are more people around..."

"Too late," Sami sniffled.

Dean got a better grip on his rolling suitcase and put a hand on Sami's chest. "I wrote down the phone number of everybody I know on a piece of paper on the fridge."

"You wrote it down?" Sami frowned. "What year are you from?"

"1985?" Dean shrugged. "I wish I had one of those cool giant phones. I got a little flippy one, you know. Anyway. Look. There's an envelope of emergency cash taped under the sink and you can like spend as much of it as you want, and here are my car keys cause I'm taking an Uber to the airport, and I wish I didn't have to go but you got knocked up by a ramblin man, babe."

Sami took a shaky breath. "Okay."

"I've seen how you wrestle. You've done way scarier things than this," Dean said. "I've seen you jump off ladders." He nuzzled Sami one more time and then pulled away. "I'll see you soon."

As he walked toward the door, Dean felt something in the air between himself and Sami. It was like a thickness, a rubber band connecting them, like had to force himself to walk away and leave his pregnant...mate.

"Dean, do you feel that?" Sami asked, rushing to the door and feeling relief when nearer to Dean.

"Shit, dude," Dean said. He wiped sweat from his fore head.

"Does this mean we bonded?" Sami asked.

"If I'm nearly physically unable to leave your side? Let me check one of my books and get back to you," Dean said.

"When's your flight?"

"Soon." Dean took a deep breath. "Just going to have to tough it out. And talk to the front office about going on leave."

"Soon," Sami said.

Dean started to say something, but shook his head and chickened out. He walked out the door and hopped into his waiting Uber before he could think too hard about the tightness in his chest, the panic, the tingling leaving his pregnant mate behind. Mates. It was happening. Fast.


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sami fills his time while Dean is on the road. Las Vegas is a place that never feels quite like home.

The first day Dean was gone, Sami had organized the junk drawer and fixed the blinking twelve o'clock on the DVD player and texted back and forth with Dean.

The second day he figured out how to program the DVR and cleaned out the expired condiments from the back of the fridge. He was aching and lonely and he called all his friends who would answer their phone. Texting wasn't cutting it.

"Sami," Neville said softly. "You're going to be fine. You're not the first omega to feel like this, not even the first on the roster. Call Heath."

"I don't have Heath's number. Heath doesn't like me."

"Heath likes you just fine, you come on strong is all, love," Neville said. "I'll text you his number."

Sami pulled Dean's bathrobe up around him and slouched down into it, feeling a little more secure wrapped in his mate's scent.

"You need to come out and visit," Sami said.

"Sami, Dean's not going to want a lot of other alphas sniffing around his den," Neville said. "But I'll ask him. What's his house like?"

"It's big," Sami said. "Really big. There's a pool and a hot tub but no basement. I haven't even explored the whole thing, I've been hung up on this DVR remote. Green means off and red means on, who does that? The design is just terrible."

"Get some rest, Battery Man," Neville said. "I'll tell everyone you said helloo."

"Bye," Sami said. He thumbed the screen to hang up. With a yawn he stretched back on the sectional in front of the flatscreen television in the den, and before he knew it he was waking up again. The windows were dark, and his lock screen said there were a few new messages.

He looked down at his belly. "Little Cheerio, you are doing crazy things to me," he said.

***

The next day, after he rolled out of bed and got his daily barfing regimen done, he opened every door in the house, vaguely afraid there’d be one with no key. There wasn’t. There were two bathrooms and three bedrooms, one with everything pushed up against the wall like Dean was clearing room for baby stuff, one Sami put all his stuff in, and the master bedroom. Sami always hated that term. Who was a master of anyone anymore? Not in this house, I hope, Sami thought.

He wasn’t sure if this counted as snooping around or nesting. He sat down on Dean’s bed, feeling the worn jersey sheets. He opened up the drawer in the bedside table: a few sci-fi paperbacks he didn’t recognize and a pair of reading glasses. A bottle of Tums. Condoms, past their expiration date. Something about that made a ripple of emotion roll through Sami, from his solar plexus out. He felt profoundly out of place and ached with loneliness. The band stretching between him and Dean felt like a sore tendon reaching out through space and time.

His phone rang, a musical chirp he didn’t hear very often, and it startled him out of his angst. Who was trying to call him on FaceTime? Maybe Neville again. But that was Dean’s number.

He swiped the screen to answer and saw Dean, with Roman and R-Truth over his shoulder, waving.

“Hi, babe,” Dean said. “Can you see me?” He squinted at the phone and held it arm’s length from his face, giving a wide-angle shot of the Apple Store in the background. It was beautiful.

“I can see your dimple,” Sami said, smiling.

“And the rest of me, I hope. The guys drug me in for an upgrade,” he said sheepishly. “Said I shouldn’t complain about not being able to see you if I hadn’t tried all my options. This thing feels like a candy bar, I feel like it’s going to melt in my pocket.”

“Oh my god, what’s next, Twitter?” Sami laughed. He lay on his side in the bed and held the phone out to show his whole face.

“I wanna go where you go,” Dean said. “So maybe.” Sami saw Roman and Truth share a significant glance in the background.

“How was Topeka?” Sami asked.

“Crowd was hot, beer was cold, can’t complain,” Dean said. “I miss Ska Madness, though. I’m tired of putting Miz in a headlock five nights a week.”

Sami’s mouth turned up at the corner. “You should probably call me back later. The whole Kansas City Apple Store doesn’t need to hear you coo at your mate.”

“Mate,” Dean smiled, his dimple alight through his beard scruff. “I like the sound of that more and more. Man, if I had Undertaker money I’d leave this thing running all the time.”

“You want to video chat through my morning sickness and watch me sort the rubber bands in your junk drawer?”

“Well, you don’t got enough hair for me to need to hold it back…” Dean said.

“Okay,” Roman said, butting in. “This is very touching but Dean’s gonna call you back later, I don’t think I can take this anymore and I also don’t want us to get recognized.” He pulled his SnapBack further down on his face.

“Point,” Sami said. “Love you,” he said, the words feeling sudden his mouth.

“Love you too, babe,” Dean said, laughing at himself but with only delight.

Sami hung up, not sure Dean knew how yet, and rolled over onto his back, feeling the springs of Dean’s mattress hold him up so he wouldn’t fall straight through the floor and down into the center of the earth.

***

The next day, Dean Facetimed Sami as soon as he woke up. Sami muted the mic while he was sick in the middle of the call, but Dean went on unfazed, catching him up on the backstage gossip. Neither of them wanted to hang up but eventually Dean had to hit the road.

Sami ventured out for groceries and to explore the area a little bit. He was used to driving unfamiliar cars, but when he got into the driver's seat of Dean's Jeep he felt like he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be.

"I can drive your car, right?" He texted Dean, putting the key in the ignition but not turning it over.

"Yeah keys are on the hook by the fridge," Dean texted back, along with an incomprehensible string of emojis, some smiling faces and some fruit and a car and the flag of Venezuela.

"What was that last part?" Sami replied.

"Just got carried away with all these little pictures," Dean said with a volcano and paper clip flourish.

Sami laughed and put his phone down in the center console, turning the key and starting the car with a rumble. He backed out of the driveway and onto the street--it was quiet during the middle of the day in the neighborhood.

The worst part about living in a new place was grocery shopping, Sami thought. Well. There were a lot of terrible things about moving across the country chasing some kind of a dream. But not knowing where the Safeway was hiding the cheese aisle was one of the more humiliating. And the different chains--what the hell is a Vons? Are their store brands any good? If I'm a kept man do I have to keep buying the store brands? If I have to quit wrestling forever should I try to save money now? But what if the store brand peanut butter is gross? Then I've wasted money. What if I can't find anything? What if I never wrestle again?

"Baby, what do you think?" Sami asked out loud. "Am I going to wrestle again? What if I don't want to? What am I then?" He put on his turn signal and proceeded through a wide intersection, turning into a shopping center bustling with activity. He parked far from the store entrance and any cart corrals, hoping he wouldn't scratch the paint on Dean's ride the first time he took it out.

But: it was a grocery store, and there was no cheese incident. He put the kind of bread he liked into the cart, and the kind of peanut butter, and prenatal vitamins because it seemed like a good idea, and all the smells of everything in the store all at once only kind of overwhelmed him. He picked up fragrance free soap and on a whim a giant bag of Hershey's kisses. And he made eye contact and polite conversation with the guy at the checkout register.

He took a four hour nap afterward, but he did it.

When he woke up he remembered it was Monday, and he realized he needed to get used to watching Raw on TV again, this time in a different time zone. He had spent his whole career between different states of jet lag, especially when he had been back and forth to Japan on the regular, so it wasn't the time change so much as the routine. Raw was on at five PM on the west coast and that was just weird.

He curled up on Dean's couch, feeling a little sore from his afternoon workout in Dean's well appointed home gym. He pulled a throw blanket up around him, curling his ankle over it and tucking it under his chin.

And there was the opening music, and there were the recorded fireworks, and there was Michael Cole saying something and then, then there was Dean. Sami couldn't keep the smile off his face when the roar of Dean's music hit. Dean was on the mic and he was on fire. He was fire. And Sami felt the pull of their connection, not like it went through the TV, but like it soared into the sky, like he felt a pull in all directions to be closer to this man. And as Sami listened to Dean threaten to hit MIz so hard he'd wake up on the Real World, Sami even felt himself getting a little wet. He concentrated on that feeling, flexing his inner muscles and feeling a ripple of arousal.

Dean was fighting now, hitting a clothesline on Curtis Axel and Bo Dallas and then Miz. Sami had always loved watching him move, and now that he felt entitled to stare it was even better, though it would have been nicer to watch in person.

"Where am I supposed to jerk off in my kid's dad's house?" Sami thought to himself. "In my boyfriend’s house? In my mate's house?" He laughed at how stupid that was and also put a hand down the front of his sweatpants, feeling immense relief as he stroked himself and not a hint of shame. One of the books Dean left lying around had mentioned pregnancy could make you horny because your hormones were in overdrive, but that hadn't made sense to Sami until now.

Dean's segment was coming to and end so Sami turned off the TV with his clean hand and went upstairs. He shucked off his clothes and put on Dean's bathrobe, not tying it, just flopping down flat onto the day bed in his room. He ran a hand through his own wetness before stroking himself to a rapid completion, regretting that the last time he had been with Dean was also the first time.

He dozed off like that and woke up in the middle of the night a sticky, crusty mess with a missed call from Dean. Only one more day. He was getting on a flight right after his Tuesday show and he'd be home late. He was taking an Uber back from the airport. He had his key. Sami pulled the bathrobe around him tighter. He knew he would wait up.

***

Sami knew when Dean landed at McArran. He felt a tug at the invisible band that tied them now and it startled him right out of the light doze he had fallen into on the couch, wearing his most comfortable Rancid tee shirt, some weird plaid pajama pants, and Dean's robe, again. The TV was still on, the last hour of Kill Bill Vol 2 on TNT with endless commercials for shows Sami would never watch. He stood up and then didn't know what to do.

He had never been the puppy dog waiting at the door for someone special to come home and he didn't like how out of control of his emotions he felt. He took a few deep breaths and walked the house a little bit.

The room spun a little and he sat down. He got a drink of water. He looked at Dean's liquor cabinet and wondered if he should try to make him a drink. But he had never mixed a drink in his life and 3 am on a Wednesday seemed like a bad time to start. He sat back down on the couch.

The key turned in the lock and he jumped back up as if he were tugged to his feet by an invisible wire.

"Hi," Dean said, pushing open the door with his shoulder and dragging his bags. "I missed you."

Sami opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He took a shaky breath.

Dean dropped his bags with a clatter and left the door ajar to swoop in and pull Sami into his arms. "Shh, don't say anything, just let me..." Dean nosed Sami's neck, taking in his pregnant mate's scent. He rubbed his cheek against Sami's. "There. Fuck."

"Dean," Sami said. "Your remote controls don't make any sense."

Dean chuckled dryly into Sami's ear. "Tell me about it, kid."

Sami pulled back and they looked at each other.

Why did Dean look even more handsome after five days away? Sami never wanted to take his eyes off of him, as much as he mistrusted the pull of his omega instincts. He just felt so *good*, so right, and it was almost enough to knock Sami off his feet.

He wobbled on his feet.

"Whoa, babe, let's get you settled back in," Dean said. "Is that my robe?"

"Oh," Sami said, blushing and sinking back into the couch, this time with Dean at his side. "I hope it's okay..."

"Uhh, yeah," Dean said. His nostrils flared. "That's really hot."

Sami blushed even more scarlet, feeling his face heat. "Geez," he said.

"Must be an alpha thing," Dean laughed.

"It had your scent on it," Sami said in a bashful voice.

Dean made an approving noise deep in his throat. "I missed you so goddamn much, Sami," Dean said. "I didn't know it would be like this."

"Me neither," Sami said.

Dean whispered: "You're worth it. Oh god, Sami, will you have me?" Dean asked. He furrowed his brow. "Do you want me?"

Sami's body trembled all over. He breathed shallowly, the light in the room seeming too bright and too strong. He throbbed and ached, not like his heat, but like a want he could control. He could go back to his room (not the guest room anymore) and shut the door, or. Or. He could get what he wanted.

"Not like I'm gonna get pregnant again," Sami laughed. He put his hands on Dean's chest, and Dean grasped his waist. They kissed deep and slow, at first their lips brushing, their beards tickling each other. Sami got two fists full of Dean's tee shirt, and Dean wrapped his strong arms around Sami's body, holding him tight.

Dean growled into Sami's mouth, wanting to be a good alpha, wanting to fill his mate, please his mate, have a mate. His pup was already growing in Sami's belly, but despite their bond they were still so nervous about saying the word.

Sami made a soft noise of need, and Dean shifted his grip to feel Sami's wetness flooding through his pajama pants. He took in a breath.

"I'm sorry," Sami said.

"Don't be," Dean said, bringing his fingers up to his nose to get the scent. His pupils dilated and he was rock hard in the time it took for him to shiver once, pressing against Sami with desire.

"I want you," Dean said. "I want to keep you."

"I'm not going anywhere," Sami said.

"Yeah you are," Dean growled, guttural with lust, as sharp as anything he had shouted with his back to the turnbuckle. "You're going upstairs. My bed. Now." His eyes were unblinking and serious.

"Okay," Sami said. He stepped backward toward the stairs, then looked over his shoulder as he ascended. Dean wanted a beat and then took them two at a time to catch up.

He pushed open the bedroom door and Sami followed. Dean made an expansive gesture to the king sized bed and the triple vanity and the bare walls and piles of laundry and the houseplant in the window.

Sami was quiet in favor of getting his hands on the fly of Dean's cutoffs. He flicked open the button and pulled at the zipper. Dean kicked them off.

"Lay down," Dean said.

Sami backed up until his calves hit the edge of the bed, then sat, His hands were restless, pulling at his shirt and clothes without getting them off.

Dean pulled his own shirt off first, one handed, over his head, and tossed it toward a mound of other identical shirts.

"Did you think about me before?" Sami asked. "Before...you know. The first time. You said you had always wanted me."

A smile flickered on Dean's face. "More than you know, kid." He ran a finger through Sami's wetness, and Sami arched his back, moaning, pulling at his hair.

Dean was lost in the wet velvet sensation of Sami's body, two fingers stroking, falling into a rhythm, in and out. He watched his hand disappear, watched the rim of Sami's entrance give way beneath his penetrating, curling fingers. His tongue felt slow, like he was moving under water, and as he shook his head to clear it Sami cried out for more.

"More, please, Dean," Sami said.

Dean gulped and ran his hands over Sami's body, trying not to overthink where he was supposed to hang on and just let instinct take over. It was what led them here, wasn't it? Or had it always been something more, something lingering at the base of Dean's skull whenever he caught Sami's scent, rumbling in his chest when they had a match or rode together or any time he saw the beautiful light of Sami's smile.

He held onto that light instead of the bedpost and lowered himself, grinding his body against Sami's until Sami shifted his hips and they found each other. Sami let out a shaky sigh. Dean nuzzled his neck, kissing and licking and moving in.

“You smell like home,” Dean said.

“I am home,” Sami moaned.


	3. Nesting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sami finds better ways to pass the time while Dean is away.

"Where do you shop for groceries?" Sami asked. He was opening and closing the cabinets in the kitchen, looking up and bending down to examine the ones on the floor. "You don't have a lot of staples."

"Eh?" Said Dean, coming down the last three steps and around the corner. His hair was wet and pushed back and he had thrown on a tee shirt and cutoff jeans, but they were clinging to him. Sami shivered.

"I mean, do you have any rice? Flour? These spices are old and I am pretty sure this grocery chain only exists in Florida," Sami said. "Did you move with this plastic jar of cinnamon?"

"I put shit in boxes and got the fuck out of Orlando," Dean said. "Maybe. Who knows." He looked at the tiny strip of skin exposed by Sami bending over. He wanted to lick it and mark it. Maybe breakfast was not the time. Maybe it was.

"We need to go to the store," Sami said.

"You're nesting," Dean said.

"Fucking duh," Sami said. "Aren’t you? Hunter told me how hard the urge hits." And then the tears started.

"Yeah, Hunter told me a bunch of things too," Dean said, coming to gather Sami into his arms. His bare feet felt cold on the tile floor even though it was a warm day in Vegas.

It was always like this at first but neither of them knew it, thrust into this strange and sudden cohabitation, Sami adrift without wrestling and work and drive, not really knowing how to bob with the tides. Dean just wanted to be an anchor.

Distressed omega scent got Dean on his feet and moving every time, and he almost didn't have time to be mad at how easy it was to let this happen, to let instinct take over. Sami was an adult, he didn't need to be swaddled and protected, he was an adult whose body was making another entire person. What could Dean even say to that?

“You wanna go get waffles?” Dean said.

“Yeah,” Sami said, a little dreamily. He hiccuped and wiped his eyes on Dean’s sleeve.

“I know a good place,” Dean said, rubbing Sami’s back. “I got you.”

  
*****

"Maybe we oughta make a list," Dean said through a mouthful of strawberries and whipped cream.

"A list of what?" Sami asked. He sipped his cranberry juice through a straw.

"Stuff we gotta do before the baby gets here. Maybe stuff you can do while I'm gone." He frowned and pulled a beat up spiral notepad out of his pocket with a John Cena pencil sticking out of the wire loops.

"When did you start being the kind of guy to make lists?" Sami asked with a little surprise.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You know when."

Sami raised an eyebrow and sawed at his waffle.

"You're all cooped up, maybe we can find you, like, a support group or something. Other omegas to talk to." He flipped open the notebook and wrote something down. "Maybe like a class?"

"I thought you were supposed to go to those classes with your alpha," Sami said.

"There's got to be something," Dean said. "I don't know, maybe a pottery class?"

Now Sami looked him square in the eye. "Pottery? Really? I barely trust myself around dishes." He flailed an arm to illustrate.

"Could be cool!" Dean said. "Could be like Ghost."

"The alpha dies in Ghost, Dean," Sami said.

"Yeah, but they make sexy pots," Dean said. "Okay, bad example. Is this helping? Maybe this isn't helping."

"It's helping," Sami said. "It's good to talk about it."

"You could start a band, like, an omega band. Have you ever been in a band?" Dean asked.

Sami laughed. "Not a good one. I'm not meant to play bass."

"Hobbies?"

"I wrestle, Dean," Sami said. "That's why I'm chewing my arm off. I've never not been wrestling since...geez, since I was a teenager." He picked at his side of chicken sausage. "This is all very new."

"Okay. Well I love killing time, so I guess here's your Dean Ambrose guide to doing shit when there's nothing to do." Dean looked determined. He pushed the notebook at Sami. "Why don't you take notes."

"Um, okay," Sami said.

"Number one, Netflix. It's amazing. You know they got the whole run of Highlander on there? I could watch that for hours. And Amazon's got all those Shaw Brothers Kung Fu movies, and Hulu's got Cutthroat Kitchen. As much as you can stand it, rest on my couch or in my bed and grow that baby."

"And if I can't stand it?"

"Okay, then you escalate. Netflix and crafts. You been in the cabinets in the shed, or the bins under the bed in the second bedroom?"

"No," Sami said, though he thought he had explored pretty thoroughly.

"Okay, in the garage you got your basic woodworking tools, some shit for carving, you want to whittle it's all there and there's plenty of wood out by the outdoor fire pit in the back, and some more small pieces of cool shit in the garage in the green tub labeled Christmas Decorations. Just don't cut yourself and bleed to death."

"Don't...bleed...to...death," Sami said, writing.

"The rest of the shit is in the bedroom. The hot glue guns, the glitter, those beads you put on the little board and iron to make keychains, the Spirograph, the magnadoodle, the etch-a-sketch..."

"You have a Spirograph?" Sami asked. "Shit, I always wanted one of those as a kid."

"Sami, we can have anything we wanted as kids," Dean said conspiratorially.

Sami stared into his waffle as this realization dawned on him.

"Like, anything?"

"I gotta put you on my credit card and, like, don't buy...another house, but yeah, why?"

Sami bit his lip. "No reason."

Dean leaned in. "Is it a girl thing? You can buy that shit too, anything you want."

Sami gulped and blushed a little. "I always wanted a Care Bear but I never got one."

"Care Bears are for everyone, Sami, isn't the future fucking beautiful!" Dean threw his arms up. "Sorry sir," he said to their waiter as he approached.

"Can I get you two anything else?" He asked. "Maybe a dessert to share?"

"Can you have dessert after breakfast?" Sami asked.

"Sami, I'm telling you. You can have anything."

Sami leaned back in the booth and felt the connection between him and Dean grow warm and it made him feel tingly all over. He was being taken good care of. He was letting himself be taken care of. And he liked it.

***

“Perler beads,” Dean said, slapping the steering wheel. They were on their way home from the Waffle Hut and from Toys-R-Us. Sami clutched a bag of dolls and stuffed animals and another one full of video games and a Nintendo Switch.

“What?” Sami said.

“Those little beads you put on the board and iron them. My foster mom was fucking nuts for them, she’d make all these keychains. I thought it was stupid at the time but I was like 11, I didn’t know anything. I liked the plastic fumes.”

“Oh,” Sami said.

“God, sorry,” Dean said. “Sorry, I just drop shit on people.”

“As long as you’re not still huffing the craft supply fumes,” Sami said. “Dean, you can tell me anything. I think it’s easier for you when it just comes out.”

“Otherwise I overthink it,” Dean said. He nodded at his own assessment as he pulled through the gate and into the driveway.

"Can you show me?" Sami asked. He opened the car door and felt his back pop and groan as he climbed out. Dean rushed over to grab the bags.

"Yeah," Dean said. "That sounds great."

***

That following week, Neville, Roman, Xavier, and Cesaro received decorated envelopes from Dean, addressed in Sami’s handwriting. Dean grinned and rocked back and forth on his heels as he passed them out.

“Is this a tiny championship?” Xavier squealed. “Oh my god, what the hell, this is adorable.”

They each opened their envelopes and found little perler bead title belts and notes from Sami too, in his slanted squiggly handwriting.

“So this is how he’s keeping busy?” Cesaro asked.

“Kind of, yeah,” Dean said, scratching the back of his head. “Kid’s practically chewing his arm off not being able to wrestle.”

“You’re about ready to jump out of your skin not being able to be with him,” Roman said. He put a steadying hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Wanna call him?”

“I wanna see the baby bump,” Neville drawled.

The electric connection between Dean and Sami felt warm and warmer still when they thought of Sami while he wasn’t there.

Dean thumbed his still shiny, not even cracked yet iPhone and hit the button to FaceTime his mate.

“Hello?” Sami said.

“Hi babe,” Dean said. “They like their presents.”

Sami broke out into a beaming smile.

“I told you they would,” Dean went on.

***

The next week it was whittled sticks. Not quite as delightful as the bright colored perler beads, and also a little more questionable at the airport, but Neville dutifully cooed over his and asked to see the bump again.

After that it was papercraft: little cards with heart stickers and funny rounded edges. And then crocheted washcloths. And then homemade soap, though it was unscented.

“It’s good he’s keeping busy,” Xavier said seriously. “Tell him to add me as a friend on Miitomo.”

And Sami kept checking things off of his little list in the tiny notebook Dean gave him, that he was keeping next to the bed.

He worked up the nerve to call Heath. Well, he texted the number that Neville gave him first. That was a little less painful. And when he heard back, he took five days to hit the button to call.

“Y’ello?” Heath answered.

“Hi, Heath, it’s Sami. Sami Zayn.”

“Hey papa,” Heath said with a laugh in his voice. “I’m so glad you called.”

“Yeah?” Sami said. He leaned back into the nest of pillows he made on the bed in the master bedroom.

“You got questions, I got answers. Prolly about seven answers for every question.” He laughed.

“Were you scared the first time you had a baby?” Sami asked. “God, that’s a weird question, how are you? How are the kids?”

“I’m fine, the kids are fine. Rhyno needs to get his ass home and help me clean the gutters, and I’m tryin’ to sell a car but I don’t want any of these Craigslist weirdos coming to the house when it’s just me and the babies.”

“Yeah,” Sami said.

“So that first question though,” Heath went on. “No, I wasn’t really scared.”

Sami sighed with a little relief.

“Probably should have been, but I wasn’t.”

And there went the relief.

“Be an average amount of scared. First time doing a moonsault scared, not ominous meeting with the old man after the quarterly investor meeting scared. Nobody’s gonna yell at you or fire you in the delivery room and you got somebody big ‘n strong to catch you.”

“That sounds like a nightmare I have had recently,” Sami said.

“Oh yeah,” Heath said. “The babies dreams get all mixed up with yours.”

“Is that it?” Sami asked.

“Could be,” Heath said. “That’s what my pop used to say.”

They talked for a while longer, and the longer they talked the lighter Sami felt. He twirled the edge of the blanket around the fingers of the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. Lots of people had done this before. Everything was gonna be fine.

“Heath?” Sami said when the other end of the line went a little quiet.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “Just felt that little pull, you know? Like where you know your old man is thinkin’ about you? D’you get that?”

Sami’s face felt hot. “Like, in your solar plexus?” He said. “Like where you feel all warm and you wish he was closer, but you still feel him?”

“Yeah,” Heath sighed.

Sami thought of Heath’s other partners before Rhyno and bit his lip. “Is it always like that?” He asked, swallowing hard.

“Nah, I never felt it before,” Heath said. “Not until I met Rhyno. That’s how I knew he was different. F’you and Dean got that, hang on to it, man. It’s real good.”

“It is really good,” Sami said. And it was.

***

Sami did find a class for omegas, and everybody in the class gave him sympathetic looks and clutched their tummies when he talked about how his mate’s job kept him traveling fifty-two weeks of the year.

“He’ll be here when it counts,” a dark haired woman named Jamie said, reaching out a hand.

Sami took it. “Thanks,” he said, feeling a tug at the thread that connected him to Dean. “I know he will.”


	4. It’s Not About the Nursery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking about decorating the nursery leads to what’s really getting Sami down.

"How are we decorating the nursery?" Sami asked. "I think I need a bigger project."

Dean chewed a sandwich noisily, but Sami was so happy to see him he didn't even say anything.

"Wrestling merch? Punk rock nightclub? Checkerboard walls, red crib." Dean's face was blank. He checked under the top piece of bread of his sandwich and added a few more Cool Ranch Doritos.

"I was thinking more like...animals," Sami said, stirring the ice in his Diet Dr. Pepper with a straw.

"Bears. Grizzly bear nursery. No, wait, do they have to be real animals?" Dean asked.

"Define real." Sami narrowed his eyes.

"What if it was a Bigfoot nursery," he went on.  
  
"That. That's." Sami was having a hard time processing Dean's design ideas. "That would be too much work."

"Babe, how do you want to decorate the nursery. Just tell me."

"Dinosaurs," Sami said, looking down at his hands. "I don't want it to be real pink or blue, but I've been window shopping for dinosaur wall decals and a mobile and like a night light."

"Pull the trigger, then."

"I didn't want to make any decisions without you," Sami said. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "I don't want to leave you out."

"You know I trust you, right?" Dean said. "Sami, look around. I bought this house years ago and look what I've done with it. Fat lot of nothing. Even when I'm making art projects I could be hanging up, I don't do it. You go to town."

"That's not what I wanted, being a house omega isn't what I ever wanted!" Sami was suddenly loud and he startled himself, voice echoing in the kitchen. "I mean, yeah, I'm ready to go on that baby room. But. I don't want to be one of those couples where you handle the money and I squeeze out kids and make the house pretty."

Dean was struck, brow furrowed. "I just want to take care of you," Dean said. "Why isn't that good enough?"

"You're not listening to me, Dean," Sami said. "I just want us to be equal. It doesn't feel equal now."

"But--" Dean went to fire something back but he stopped himself. "Okay," he said. "Okay. Something is not fair right now, and I want you to feel like we are dividing the household labor and shit fairly."

"And stop treating me like I'm made of glass," Sami added. "I'm pregnant, but all my parts work. Pregnancy is not an illness."

"Huh," Dean said, pondering that last statement. "D'jyou learn that at your class?"

"Yeah," Sami said in a small voice. "It's a really good class. If I didn't have a family history of stroke they'd already have convinced me to deliver on a giant beach ball in someone's living room or hot tub."

"We have a hot tub," Dean said. "I mean, it's empty, but we have one. Seems kind of bad for the baby, though."

"I'm confused about the water birth stuff too, but I'm not going to do it, so I kind of don't ever have to figure that one out," Sami said. "There's an omega in my class who's having her second kid, and she has this tattoo of a howling wolf over a pyramid because when she was having her first baby she labored in a shower, squatting and howling? And she felt like she was having a vision of the powerful ancient wolf?"

"...are there wolves in Egypt?" Dean asked.

"No," Sami said. "I tried really hard not to laugh. Uh, but there are these wolves that are more like jackal foxes? So she's not totally wrong, but if she's right I think she got there by accident."

"You gonna howl for me, Sami?" Dean asked.

"I can howl whenever you want, Dean," Sami said, finally smiling, also blushing.

"How about now?" Dean asked, getting up from the table. He inclined his head toward the stairs.

"Now's great," Sami said, relieved that they were learning the shapes of each others' corners well enough to be able to navigate around sharp situations.

Dean followed Sami up the stairs, taking in the way his ass rounded a little with the pregnancy weight. He smelled amazing, but it was one of those omega smells that's hard to describe in words because it sounded too stupid, like a sweaty cupcake or a hot dog water perfume. It didn't make any goddamn sense but it didn't have to. Dean adjusted himself through his cargo shorts, just getting hard in anticipation.

He reached the top of the stairs and almost lost his balance when Sami grabbed him by the shirt collar. "Do you realize how fucking horny I am?" Sami said. "I have no idea what is going on with my hormones but all I want to do is nest and jerk off. Get on the bed."

"Yes, sir," Dean said, laughing a little and pulling his shirt off, ripping the belt out of his beltloops and flopping down on the bed, right into the giant pile of pillows Sami had been curating--some to prop his back up, some to prop his feet up, some for his head, some to curl up with when he was lonely.

Sami put a hand on Dean's chest and shoved him back. "I'm going to ride you until I get off and I don't even care what you think about it."

Dean smiled and blinked a few times. "Oh no," he said in a mock serious voice. "Whatever will I do?"

Sami paused. "I do actually care what you think. I'm pretending. Is that okay?"

"Babe, throw me down on the bed and have your way with me, this is awesome."

"Good. Take your pants off, motherfu--" Sami paused. "Can the baby hear me call you a bad word. Should I not do that."

Dean's pupils were blown wide. "Call me whatever you want! That's fine! Where has this Sami been this whole time?"

"I guess I just had to get bored long enough to remember I like a fight," Sami said. He unbuttoned the red and blue plaid shirt he was wearing and threw it off the side of the bed. He pulled off his pajama pants over his stomach which stuck way out, even more noticeably when he was undressed.

"You're beautiful," Dean said.

"Shut up," Sami said.

"You wanna make me?" Dean asked, prodding and grinning.

"Take your fucking pants off, shithead."

"Yeah, I like this a lot," Dean said, sliding his shorts down along with his boxers and then he was naked and spread out before Sami like a new beautiful addition to the pillow nest.

Sami knelt over Dean and grabbed Dean's dick, stroking it a few times and guiding it up toward him, lowering himself slowly and groaning as his entrance gave purchase.

"Use me," Dean said.

Sami began to roll his hips, putting his hands on Dean's chest for support and fucking himself hard on Dean's cock, his belly a somewhat obscene presence in the scene.

"Oh, Sami," Dean moaned. "I'll do anything for you. You know that."

"Then don't come until I'm done," Sami said, panting and sweating. He flopped forward, pulling Dean up, and Dean held Sami in his arms, pistoning his hips to hit that spot inside his body that made him see stars and come like a fire hose.

"Fuck," Sami said, digging his nails into Dean's back.

"Fuck yeah," Dean said. He licked at Sami's earlobe and kissed down his neck, shivering all over at the scrape of Sami's nails.

They rocked together like that for long enough that Dean's legs started to cramp up, but he didn't move a muscle, holding Sami up and holding him close. They were both holding their breath without hardly noticing it.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," Sami said, feeling so wet at the place they were joined. He felt a shudder go through him and then he was coming all over himself and Dean, and Dean stroked him through it until he was done.

"Fuck," Sami said.

"Can I come now?" Dean asked, wincing. "Please."

"I don't know," Sami said, mock pondering the question. "What'll you give me for it."

"My soul," Dean said.

"I don't want your soul," Sami said. "I want someone else to call the plumber about the downstairs bathroom and I want you to go to Costco for me."

"I will do that and more, I'll put up whatever fucking dinosaur stickers you want, Sami, please let me come."

Sami smiled out of the side of his mouth. "Okay," he said.

Dean sighed and grabbed Sami's shoulders as he pumped fast and hard in a burst of speed before letting out a strangled cry and then flopping backwards onto the bed.

“I never knew it could be like this,” Sami laughed, and then Dean started laughing too, and they rolled to face each other and laugh and laugh until they heard the downstairs pipes making the bad noise again.

Dean straightened himself up and felt around for his phone. “I promised I’d call,” he said.

As Dean got somebody on the phone and started describing the problem, Sami felt relaxed and relieved. It was important to ask for what you want, he thought.


	5. it's a shower cause you're showered with love, right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sami and Dean race past a few relationship milestones on the way to the baby's arrival.

They drove home in silence from the ultrasound appointment. Finding out they were having a little girl made everything suddenly even realer than before.

“She’s coming,” Dean said, unlocking the front door to the house and shouldering it open. “Whether we’re ready or not.”   
  
Sami nodded, feeling tired from a long appointment, and he made a beeline for the couch, collapsing into his usual spot.   
  
"Have you thought about names?" Dean asked quietly. “I can’t believe I haven’t even asked.”   
  
"A little," Sami said. He pulled his knees up on the couch, cradling the growing bump sticking out of his Replacements tee-shirt. "Um."   
  
"What?"   
  
Sami frowned, started to talk, then stopped. He sucked in a breath. "I really want the baby to have an Arabic name," he said. His eyes flicked up to Dean's.   
  
"Well. You have an Arabic name. I guess that makes sense." Dean sat down at Sami's feet. Sami put them in his lap and Dean started to rub them without prompting.   
  
"God, that feels good," Sami said.   
  
"Did you have any in mind in particular?" Dean asked.   
  
"Did you?"   
  
"Not sure mine are going to match up with yours," Dean said with a smile. He circled his thumbs in the arch of Sami's foot and he whimpered.    
  
"You can see my list if you want," Sami said.   
  
"Mmm," Dean said. "What's at the top."   
  
Sami sighed. "My grandmother's name was Amina."   
  
Dean made a noise of assent. "That's nice. Does it mean anything?"   
  
Sami sucked air in through his nose like he was making time to decide how detailed of an answer was necessary. "Uh. It's kind of a religious name. But it means trustworthy."   
  
"How religious? Like naming your kid Mary or like naming your kid Jesus?"   
  
"The first one. But, like, Maryam is Arabic for Mary and that's on the list if you like it."   
  
"Can I pick her middle name?" Dean asked. He switched to the other foot.   
  
"Does that mean you like Amina?" Sami asked.   
  
Dean nodded. "I gotta think about it but it's nice. I feel like it’s hard to name a kid before you meet them, you know? Amina Thunderbolt. Amina Danger. Amina Deanna doesn't really work. Maryam Deanna. Maryam Thunderbolt."    
  
Sami laughed at that. "Just give me some warning before you fill in the birth certificate."   
  
They were quiet for a minute and Sami relaxed, leaning back into the padded armrest of the couch.   
  
"So," Dean said. "Amina Zayn or Amina Ambrose?"   
  
Sami squeezed his eyes closed. He didn't answer.   
  
"I want to be responsible," Dean said. "I want to be a good dad. I want to be a good alpha, Sami, I want to so bad. I've fucked up enough parts of this already--"   
  
"No," Sami said, his voice breaking. "You are. I just didn't even think. Of course she should have your name."   
  
"But we're not married," Dean said.   
  
Sami's lip quivered.   
  
"Do you want to get married. Do you want to get married? Let's get married, oh fuck this is the worst proposal ever," Dean said, smacking himself on the forehead.   
  
Sami started crying in earnest now.   
  
"I just fucked everything up," Dean said.   
  
"No, I want to get married!" Sami said.    
  
"Nothing but the best shotgun wedding for my Sami," Dean said.   
  
"Say that again," Sami hiccuped.   
  
"What part?"    
  
"My Sami."   
  
"My Sami," Dean sighed, pulling Sami into his arms. "My Sami, I don't deserve you."   
  
***  
  
"I, Dean, take thee Sami. To be my lawfully wedded husband and mate, to love and cherish for all the days of my life." Dean read off of the white folded piece of paper he clutched in his faintly trembling hand.   
  
Sami swayed on his feet but Neville caught him by the arm and propped him up.    
  
Dean continued. "I...I give you this ring as a sign of my love." He looked at his hands and then over at Roman, who snapped to attention and handed over the ring to Dean.   
  
"We can resize it later," Dean said, sliding the plain gold ring gently over Sami's swollen ring finger. Sami's eyes brimmed with tears looking down at Dean's fingers over his own. They lingered.   
  
The officiant coughed.   
  
"Right, right! Pregnancy brain. I'm sure you see this a lot, right?" Sami said nervously to the interfaith chaplain that Brie and Daniel had connected them with. Roman nodded sympathetically.   
  
"Ya hayati," Sami said, looking at the blue ink on lined notebook paper where he had written down the vows he wanted to make. "Father of my child, I promise in honesty and with sincerity to be for you a faithful husband. I will love and honor you as we make a family together." On the word family, Sami's voice broke, and the tears were flowing in earnest by the time he got to the end of the sentence.   
  
Neville rubbed a circle on his back and Dean rushed to pull a tissue out of his own jacket pocket.   
  
Sami swiped at his eyes and continued as Neville handed him a ring box. Sami pulled out a band of white gold studded with black gems.   
  
"What is that?" Dean asked.   
  
Sami smiled through his tears. "It made me think of you. Here, I give you this ring as a sign of." He looked at his paper but the ink was smudged by a drop of tears. "A sign of something." He started to laugh and he slid the ring on Dean's finger. They looked into each other's eyes. Dean was looking glassy-eyed too.   
  
The chaplain might have announced that it was time for them to kiss, or they might have just skipped right to the big finish, but either way, they only had eyes for each other in that moment, and it was a good thing they each had a friend to make sure the paperwork got signed and nobody left their wallet at the chapel or in a cab.   
  
Sami put it out of his mind that every one had to leave on the first flight out the next day, his new husband included. All he could think of was the here and now, Dean’s hand in his, Dean’s scent on him, the rings on their fingers, the future spilling out in front of them like a carpet of flowers.   
  
***   
  
"Dean?" Sami piped up from where he was lying with his feet up on the sectional in the living room.   
  
"Hmm?" Dean looked up from the stove, peering over the island.   
  
"Can you bring me the ipad?"   
  
"Hang on, babe, let me set the timer." Dean poked at the buttons on the stove to remind him when to come stir the sauce next. He wiped his hands on a dish towel sitting on the counter and came around to the couch. He looked around the living room, then back at Sami, and stopped.   
  
"What?" Sami asked, shifting, pushing another pillow under the small of his back.   
  
Dean smiled out of the side of his mouth. He pivoted on the ball of his right foot, spinning a little on the hardwood floor. "You're glowing," he said with a little wonder.   
  
"What?" Sami said. He crinkled up his forehead. "I've peed fifteen times today. I think I can feel her kicking me in the kidneys."   
  
"But that's just it! You look fuckin’ happy, despite all that." Dean started picking up pillows on the couch and looking under them, finding a few remotes but no ipad.   
  
"Okay," Sami said. He pulled the afghan up over himself and there was a clunk as something heavy tumbled to the floor from within its folds.   
  
"There it is," Dean said, picking up the tablet. "Here."   
  
Sami frowned. "I’m a mess."   
  
"It's pregnancy brain, baby, you're fine." Dean leaned down to kiss him.   
  
"How does this feel normal?" Sami asked. "I moved in not that many months ago. The last of my stuff got here last week. We've been married..."   
  
"It's our three week wedding anniversary," Dean said softly.   
  
"Really? Should we do something?"   
  
"Can I suck your dick?" Dean asked hopefully.   
  
"Can you reach it?"   
  
"Probably better than you can."   
“Marriage is amazing,” Sami said, relaxing as his mate attended to him, easing his soft basketball shorts down, kissing and moving and loving him.   
  
“Oh shit,” Dean said, sitting up, wide eyed.   
  
“What?” Sami said.   
  
“I think the baby kicked me too.”   
  
***   
  
The weeks went by and Dean’s time to go on leave was coming closer. Sami couldn’t wait.   
  
"Do you want to have a baby shower?" Dean asked, sitting down at the breakfast nook with a steaming cup of coffee. He set a mug with a chamomile tea bag in it down in front of Sami.   
  
Sami looked up from his Frosted Flakes. He wrinkled his forehead. "I have no idea."   
  
"Naomi and Brie and Nattie and Daniel and, like, Tyler Breeze group texted me about it. They have..Ideas." Dean sipped at his coffee, added more sugar from a canister on the table, then stirred.   
  
Sami chewed thoughtfully. "I'm not sure I've ever even been to a baby shower. What is it?"   
  
Dean grimaced. "Um, a party for pregnant people where everyone plays weird baby games, and eats cake, and the people who aren't pregnant get drunk on mimosas and cry about babies?"   
  
"Would you be there?" Sami asked.   
  
Dean rolled his shoulders. "Alphas usually aren't invited to baby showers. Other alphas might come. But. Like, not the one who got you pregnant."   
  
"I don't want to have a baby party without you," Sami said.   
  
"Well, that's it then. It's not a shower, it's just a baby party. Do you trust that roster to plan it for you?" Dean looked a little overwhelmed by the prospect. He brushed his hair back from his eyes and opened them wide in mock exasperation. Well. It might also have been real exasperation.   
  
"There's no way I'm planning it myself, that's for sure."   
  
Dean looked at his phone. "They say we need to make a shower registry. Hey, this thing can't be all bad if they just buy us stuff, right?"   
  
"Can it be anything?" Sami asked. "Can I register for an Xbox?"   
  
"I mean, I think it's supposed to be stuff for the baby but...you gotta start 'em on the consoles young, right?"   
  
"Better put down a PS4 too," Sami said. He picked up his cereal bowl and slurped down the rest of the milk from the bottom, coughing as he choked a little on a cereal fragment.   
  
Dean typed something onto his phone and hit send. His phone dinged a moment later. "What kind of cake do you want?"   
  
"Chocolate," Sami said. "What other kind is there."   
  
"C-H-O-C-L-A-T-E," Dean spelled out loud as he typed. "Well. Close enough."   
  
***   
  
"I'm so tired," Sami said. "I've never been this tired in my entire life. Not when I first started training. Not when I had the flu and pink eye and a stinger. I'm."   
  
Dean waited a beat, finishing unrolling the paper streamers and taping the end above the dining room window. "You're what?"    
  
"I just am."   
  
"Okay babe, why don't you just keep being. Can I get you anything?"   
  
"I want to be done."   
  
"You will be, very soon."   
  
"I don't want to be pregnant anymore." Sami rubbed his very round belly, leaning his head back against the headrest of the recliner. "When is it going to be like Alien and the baby bursts out of me."   
  
Dean winced. "I really hope we aren't growing one of those. You think it would have shown up on the ultrasound."   
  
There was a knock at the door. "That'll be the party committee," Dean said, hopping to his feet to go answer it.   
  
"Heyy!! How's our Sami, eh?"   
  
"Neville?" Sami asked. "I didn't know you were in on this."   
  
Nikki came in behind Neville carrying two shopping bags. "We're *all* in on this, Sami," she said. "This baby is going to be so spoiled."   
  
"And well-defended," Tyler added. He was gently carrying a cardboard box with a cellophane top. "And well fed. And well-dressed if we have anything to do with it."   
  
"Is that the cake?" Sami asked. "Can I have some now?"   
  
"Soon," Dean reassured again.   
  
"Everything is soon," Sami whined. He shifted and pulled the crocheted afghan up over himself, tucking it under his sides. "I can't have anything now."   
  
"You can have a hug now," Dean said. "You can have a kiss now."   
  
The crowd of people pouring in the front door oohed and awed.    
  
Sami presented his cheek and Dean pecked it, then buried his nose in the red curls on top of Sami's head. He stood there reveling in his scent and scenting Sami in return.   
  
Sami tilted his head to the side and Dean scented his neck, bracing himself on the arms of the chair to not put all his weight on Sami's belly. They were lost in each other for a moment, and the party sprang up around them.   
  
Their friends decorated and laid out the food. They set up party games and Nikki even put on some soothing music. She *clearly* had brought that with her because Sami's taste was loud and Dean's was twangy. But it was okay. The music was okay, and the company was good, great even, and Sami lay back in the chair and let the party happen.    
  
Dean sat at his feet while they played a game where they ate baby food out of jars and guessed the flavor. Sami opened gifts that were handed to him and laughed and cooed at the onesies and the blankies and devices and then, finally, there was cake. Chocolate with chocolate frosting. He ran his fingers through Dean's hair before remembering there was frosting on them, but Dean didn't care. he rubbed it in. It was a baby party. It was for them. All three of them. Their family.   
  



End file.
